Why do you pick fights with other boys? It's the question Ryan has been running from all his life. The answer will shock you.
For as long as Ryan can remember, he's always wanted to be someone special. Now, a promising high school wrestler and a po...
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Dalton woke up on a foldable lounge chair with the sun shining down on him brightly. Ironically, the air felt freezing cold. When Dalton opened his eyes, the sunlight triggered a headache.
"Go away." He said, shielding his eyes from the light.
The stench of his alcohol stained clothes did not help his head. His hangover was so intense, he felt like the veins throbbing on his forehead would burst. The skin of his face was crusty from his dehydrated state. His eyes were bloodshot with dark bags under them. He looked several years older than his actual age.
When he was finally able to think, his first thought was, What asshole friends would let me just pass out outside? Then it occurred to him he may have died from the cold had he not worn several layers of clothes.
Dalton understood he was a thin, scrawny seventeen year old with a fairly unimpressive physique, but he was scrappy. From experience, he knew he could hold his own in a fight. If he had to tussle with someone his size, he was confident he could win. But right now he was fighting against a headache that was kicking his ass.
The taste of the liquor from the party and the McDonalds Dalton ate before pushed its way up his throat. He swallowed the puke back down his gullet before it could exit. It was horrible.
The lounge chair Dalton woke up on was in the backyard of Cyrus's house. The yard was littered with trash and empty bottles of booze. The smell of alcohol was almost as overwhelming as the smell of Dalton's pits. He gave one a quick sniff.
Shit, I reek.
He felt like a bum that just woke up from a bender. He noticed several burn holes in his clothes he did not remember getting.
Did someone flick their butts on me?
Dalton felt like he was going to freak out. He did not take disrespect or teasing well.
Motherfuckers.
Then he saw the end of a blunt on his jeans with another hole.
Nice going.
The memories of the night started coming back to him.
He got to Cyrus's around 8pm. Him and Cyrus took a few hash oil dabs while the TV played the last fifteen minutes of Van Wilder on Comedy Central. Dalton and Cyrus spent the bulk of that time on their cellphones looking at Instagram and deciding which girls to DM and invite over. During their decision making, they drank three Bud Lights. They then took one ecstasy capsule each and called more girls.
By 10pm, guests started arriving at Cyrus's. Dalton downed five shots of vodka within an hour with Cyrus, Luke, Ashley, Ali, and some girl from another high school named Lindsey.
After talking with Lindsey for thirty minutes, Dalton and her started making out. There were no formalities about their exchanges. Their tongues did most of the talking. Despite worrying the ecstasy would keep him from getting hard, securing an erection was surprisingly easy.
